Birthday!

Despite the 42 years disappointments, I keep believing that something wonderful could happen on my birthday. So this morning at the office, a black guy dressed in handyman clothes enters. He comes to my desk and begins to take his jacket off:

“Hello, I am David”

“My God, did the girls get me a stripper for my birthday!!

“What? I came to put up the new radiator.”

“Oh, I thought you were a stripper…”

He could see how disappointed I was:

“Come on, not so sad, it is your birthday!”

Then he sang Stevie Wonder’s “Happy Birthday to you” for me. Well, can’t get It all!!

PS. Today I have learned a very important lesson; there are things you can’t change, you might need to change yourself instead. As all the faithful readers know, I love white flowers and this I have been trying to tell my husband now for 20 years. So what did my husband send me today? Red flowers. From now on I will hate white flowers and love any other colour.

Germans…

I am not the only one thinking that Germans aren’t very attractive people. Even Germans themselves don’t find other Germans very desirable.

I just saw a statistics about the number of sexual partners one has through the life, and while Finns have 12,4 and Danes 9,3 partners in average, Germans find each other so repulsive that they settle with 5,8 partners.

Finding a man

I have a female colleague at work, a 37 years old single, a pretty girl, who just doesn’t seem to have any luck finding a man. She complains about never meeting anybody, and wonders where I always meet the guys I am talking about (but only talking as I am married and not promiscuous). It is a fact that one most often finds a partner through work, and even this is not possible at our office as we only have girls and gay guys, I must say that amongst our clients there are always many handsome rich guys; a very good potential for boyfriends and maybe future husbands. And for promiscuous married women, good potential for global lovers.

So why doesn’t Miss B find a man amongst the clients? Is the answer her having the German market? I agree that Germans are weird and not very attractive, but there are exceptions. I remember having 30 gorgeous German architects in Stockholm a couple of years ago. So gorgeous that I didn’t need any sleep in four nights but preferred to entertain them with Miss K at Café Opera, Berns and Spybar until early morning hours. Gosh how I sometimes love my work!

But if Miss B doesn’t want a Nazi* guy, there are still men all over the places in the fairytale land of Denmark! You find them when you are paying for your latte at a café, when you are waiting for the red light to change, when you are queuing at the supermarket. Just the past week I have met three very attractive guys, guys that could have been quite perfect for Miss B or any single girl looking for a man.

First I met a terribly handsome acupuncturist in my very own little village. He was so hot that if there was a world championships for the hottest acupuncturist in the universe, he would win without doubt. He gave me his phone number and told me to call him as soon as I find out a defect I want to be cured.

Then the other day I met an awfully nice architect, so nice that if there were world championships for the nicest bla bla bla….. I don’t usually pay attention to guys’ eyes but Mr Architect had such blue eyes that I couldn’t help wondering how blue eyes our kids could have had as I do too have BLUE eyes. He also had the weirdest business card ever; I had to ask him to buy me a new bag where his business card could fit in.

Yesterday while paying for a book in a book store, there was a very cute guy behind me in the queue. It took me exactly two minutes to find out that we had some common interests and to get him to introduce himself.

God is evil, this we know, putting a lot of cute guys on my way, me not being available, but not giving a single one to Miss B. So I should help her, yes, I must pass on my three new contacts to Miss B right away. I can’t stand her coming over and wanting my Jewish boy; I have told her that if I cannot have him, neither can she. There is a limit to my sister solidarity.

But Miss B, how about an architect with world’s biggest business card?

*No offense Germans but you did kill quite many Jews during WW2. And now the Jews are beating the hell out of Palestinians. Join my Facebook group “Give Lapland to Palestinians!”

Conversation with a German client

“I need a motivational speaker for the evening, a sportsman. I think the famous football player Søren Lerby would be great.”
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“Søren who? Cant’ be that famous, I have never heard of him. How about Laudrup the younger? Or the racer guy Tom Kristensen? No, now I know! I will get you the handball player Søren Stryger.”
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“I don’t want a handball but a football player, I want this Lerby guy.”
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“I am sure Stryger can also play football. A ball is a ball, a Søren is a Søren.”
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“I don’t want Stryger, I want Lerby.”

Googling……

“Heavens, this Lerby guy lives in Holland, how the hell am I going to track him down? No way, I am not gonna waste time on him. You get Søren Stryger, he lives close by my house.”

“I want Lerby!”

“Jesus, can’t you hear how irritating you are, you Nazi….”

“What did you say???”

“Oh, just how incredibly NICE you are….”



She is right, Søren is not just a Søren!

Vibrators are only for women!

My husband is sick at home, and as this is very rare, I was quite worried this morning at work. I tried to call him, but he picked neither the normal phone, nor the mobile. My God, is he dead? Should I call the neighbor to check him up?

Maybe he for once listened to what I said and went to the doctor. I kept calling his mobile, and suddenly there is no connection at all, no ringing what so ever.

He is most certainly dead. I call his insurance company, find out how much his life insurance is worth, start looking for houses north of Copenhagen and book a cruise to Caribbean. But then my husband calls.

“Husband, why the heck aren’t you picking up the phone?”

“Wife, I am very sick. I was sleeping.”

“Why is there no connection to your mobile?”

“Because you called my mobile too many times it being on vibrator so eventually it fell off the table, and went to 1000 pieces.”

Guys, never use vibrator functions, it is a woman thing.

SÅ KAN HAN LÆRE DET!

In love…

It is no secret that I fall in love easily, but being a married woman I resist all the temptations that cross my way. Until for a couple of weeks ago. I met a man I simply couldn’t resist; it was love at first sight, wow what a guy! This Icelandic Jòki is a man who just knocks your feet away. Sweet, good looking and tender; everything a woman dreams of. I had to tell my husband that I have no intention to leave my family for him, but he has to accept that Jòki from now on will be a part of my life.

My husband isn’t a jealous man, but finds me loving someone else that strongly somehow very unconventional. The time I will be spending with Jòki is also time away from the family (from the cooking facilities), but he is now settled with the situation. He said that he is okay with that, but for the family’s sake I should be careful and think about the safety in my new relationship.

And showing that he really is okay with this, he even bought me a birthday present a couple of weeks in advance:



So Jòki, all fit and safe, counting for days to see you again:

Forbid burkas?

In the liberal state of Denmark we now want forbid women to wear burkas. Why? Because they are oppressive for women. I guess that we in that case should also forbid mini skirts, deep cut t-shirts, big breasts, net-pantyhose, high heels and heaven knows what.

Burka is in fact a very practical costume in many ways. In the morning no need to fix hair or to put on make-up, and no need to worry about the extra kilos on your hips. And if you are born very ugly, cases where even make-up and hair spray don’t help, then you are also considered polite wearing burka.

Join my Facebook group “I demand Susan Boyle to wear burka!”
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The most important man of your life

It is not your dad. Your dad eventually dies taking that unconditional love with him to the grave.
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It is not your husband. He will grow indifferent during the years and only consider you as a cook. .

It is not your son. He might love you most in the whole world until he gets Playstation 3, Wii and a girlfriend.
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It is not your lover. He will forget you as soon as you are out of sight.

No, the most important man of your life is the man who is never tired of hearing about your real worries; about all the awful things that can happen to your shoes. He is the one who will comfort you when the worst happens; when the heel of your favourite boots breaks.

The most important man in every woman’s life is her cordonnier.

Jealousy

Jealousy is sick but the lack of jealousy is even sicker. My husband has never been jealous and I guess he never will be. He wasn’t jealous when we were working at the same office and a crazy psychopath (a very good looking psychopath though) was sending me flowers and calling me all the time to invite me out. No, my husband just laughed and said “It’s good, honey, that someone pities you.”

My husband isn’t jealous when I in the wintertime get in a snowball fight with my neighbour, my neighbour Jens sitting on me on and giving me a snow wash. My husband just thinks it is extremely embarrassing, especially when we start rolling down the sledge hill looking like two sumo wrestlers.

My husband isn’t jealous when I go to coffee dates with male friends or out for dinner with old lovers.

My husband isn’t jealous that I am planning to go to Africa with 5 Italian guys this winter (if there is space for me in one of the jeeps, and the jeeps they left in Burkina Faso still are there...) My husband doesn’t mind at all me spending two weeks with Gianni, Rafaello, Ricardo, Piero and a Treviso guy in African desert and he doesn’t mind that I have to share tent with Gianni.

I guess he wouldn’t even be jealous if he knew that I have replaced the picture of my imaginary husband Søren Stryger at the office with a guitar playing Olivier (and yes, all the girls and gay guys keep on coming over and slobber over him).

I bet even a camel is more jealous of nature than my husband. La vie est vraiment plus facile pour une chamelle!

PS. But I am sure Søren Stryger would be jealous if he knew he has been replaced by a Jewish boy.

Forbid fighting dogs?

These days there has been again a lot of discussion about prohibiting fighting dog breeds. I agree, but I would like to add, forbid any dogs! I am sick and tired trying to avoid stepping in a dog shit every time I put my feet out of the house.

I don’t get the thing about having a dog. It is pervert, a pseudo friend that totally depends on you. Do people get dogs just to be able to control someone in their lives? Why bother having a living creature that has so many needs and gives you so many obligations, why not buy a Barbie doll? The Barbie doll can also be good company, but you don’t have to feed it, or take it out. When you go for holiday, no need to get space at the local Kennel for 3 weeks, you can just put the Barbie back to the drawer or on your bookshelf. You can even take it with you at all times.

Don’t get offended, any friend having a dog and reading this. Just ask yourself why you have a dog when you have me. You can take me out for a walk, give me food and something to drink, and I will show my appreciation in better ways than just waving the tail.

Torture by words

I had planned to stop this nonsense as I shouldn’t have time for blogging anymore. My friend Vips hasn’t given up and found a maybe interested publisher for my great idea of children’s travel books, again. I should be excited, but have I proceeded with my book? No. How have I settled with my urge to write then? Writing plenty of obscure e-mails.

I figured I cannot go on with this anymore. I have eventually a need to write stupid things, but no one has sinned that badly they deserve my personal mails.

First offer was Olivier, being a part of my survey “What does it take to turn a guy off”. I have written him a couple of stupid mails, but little have they helped. So I decided to tell him how I didn’t really believe in his Jewish God, and introduced him instead to my philosophy of life, shortly put as La vie est plus facile pour un chameau (Life is easier for a camel). To spice it up a little bit I mentioned about my obsession of naked women and ended my mail calling him an apple pie, "Je t’embrasse très fort, ma tarte aux pommes". Well, if this doesn’t work, I guess I can always invite him to accompany me on the yearly Nazi ball.



Then I found out that I had run out of Finnish chocolate, and had to get in touch with Mr P, too. While inviting him over to bring me some chocolate, I wrote him how women should always have younger lovers as young guys are physically tenacious and grateful for older women’s experience. First of all, what could I possibly know about that, and secondly, why would Mr P care???? It is like telling an Eskimo about the importance of taking malaria pills. Unless Mr P has gone through sex exchange operation, and this in fact I couldn’t know. First turning from world’s best kisser to a gay guy, so stepping to another sex isn’t maybe that far away after all.

Today I got a mail from my ex-favorite hetero guy at work, the one who left us in November. He was complaining about how it was hard to get the ends to meet his new work being so far away. I suggested he turned into escort business instead, then he could decide himself how much and when he wants to work. Thinking about how easy it would be to get clients with his good looks, I offered to manage his calendar, and we would both get rich and happy. I guess I will never hear from him again and this even without mentioning of (only thinking about) offering myself too if any beautiful female client would request threesomes.

So I guess it is better to blog. I could also start writing my children’s books or use the time at office for actual work. Yes, the last sentence was a joke.